


finding my way back to you

by jdphoenix



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolves have a keen sense of smell, keen enough to detect the scent of one human clinging to another even hours after separation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	finding my way back to you

**Author's Note:**

> Where is Matt? I don't know. He found another way out or something. ~~Or he's dead.~~ But we don't talk about that.

All Jess can think about is falling in the water. She never bothered taking her jeans off - she didn’t want to _rush_ things and knew Mike would get there eventually - and regrets it now. They’ve gone stiff around her legs, which she’s pretty sure they’re colder than they should be.

Maybe maybemaybe _maybe_ it’s just that they’re lower than her body? She knows cold sinks, _Emily_ , so isn’t everything colder closer to the ground? Even if it’s just a few inches? And the coat she’s wearing is heavy, even though it smells like _old_. And the snow’s not helping. She’s not exactly kicking it up, but the wind is and she keeps running into branches that knock snow onto her jeans.

So she’s fine. She’s _going to be fine_. She’s just a little cold and a little bruised, but she’ll be okay.

She’s tired too, even though she must’ve been out for a while after- after- after whatever it was, because the sky’s getting lighter. The others have probably only just gone to sleep. She’ll probably scare them half to death walking in there like this.

Hopefully none of them are too drunk to help her find Mike.

She reaches out for a tree, just to use it to push her along, and her shoulder hits it hard. The impact reverberates through her body - it hurts her _teeth_ \- and the next thing she knows she’s on the ground. The tree’s cold on her back, the snow even colder on her ass.

That’s good. That means her jeans aren’t that bad, right?

It’s hard to keep her eyes open against the light and the tree’s so comfortable at the back of her aching head. She’ll just rest a few minutes. It’ll be safer to move on once the sun’s up anyway, and then everything will be okay.

Just a few minutes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Barkley’s in her room. He’s not supposed to be, but she always leaves her door open so he can get in if he wants. He nuzzles his way under her hand and she curls her fingers in his thick fur in her sleep.

“Good boy,” she mutters and shifts a little closer to him. She’s cold. One of her blankets must’ve fallen off in the middle of the night and she’s too tired to go feeling around for it. Barkley’ll do.

She tries to curl around him, but her body just _won’t go_. She tries to sling an arm over him, to pull him up onto her chest, but he’s already there, one paw heavy on her thigh while he licks at her collarbone and whines. His tongue is rough, just like his fur, and the whine is lower than usual Barkley’s high-pitched voice should be.

Barkley’s dead.

He died four years ago and her parents said they’d never get a dog again after the way her brother cried.

Jess’ eyes snap open, fixing on big, brown ones in a big, broad face that is definitely _not_ a dog’s. Is this what took her? Is this the thing that dragged her through the woods and threw her down that hole? The thing that- that- that _hurt_ her?

“Ohhhhhhh.”

The wolf stills. It’s eyes go all puppy dog and then it attacks her, goes straight for her face and she closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see what it’s gonna do.

But there’s no pain that wasn’t there before. Just the tongue licking at her wounds while she _eeeeeee_ s under its attentions.

Eventually she stops, cracks an eye to watch while it licks at every bloody spot it can find on her. It’s _caring_ for her and she wonders if it thinks she’s its cub or pup or whatever. Don’t animals sometimes do that? They’ll take care of people or animals that are hurt like they’re their own kids?

Once it’s done, its teeth carefully clamp down around the sleeve of the jacket. It’s trying to get her to come.

She’s still so cold and her legs are doing that thing where they want to be asleep even if she’s not and they’re letting her feel it. Probably doesn’t help that her jeans are definitely soaked through again after sleeping in the snow and stiff as boards. Why did she ever _stop_?

The wolf is still pulling, getting more insistent now.

“I can’t. My legs, I- I can’t move.”

She sees a flash of the wolf’s teeth and then a blur as her head hits the snow. The wolf keeps pulling, dragging her along behind it.

“Okay,” she says to the branches and the clouds. “Better than last time.”

And it hurts, yeah, because her shoulder was already aching, but it actually gets her mind off all her other hurts. And at least she’s not terrified out of her _frikkin’ mind_. That’s nice.

The localized pain and the movement get her legs to stop hurting too, so when the wolf stops for a breather, she can climb up on her own two feet.

Not gracefully, but she manages with a little help from the wolf. It watches her attentively while she finds her balance, wavering a little towards her outstretched hands whenever one goes too far to either side.

“Okay. Okay. I got this. I am the Snowball Queen. I can do this.” And that makes her throat hurt. Mike wouldn’t have just left her to whatever it was - and it definitely wasn’t this cute guy - so where is he? Did that thing get him? Did the mines? He’s gotta still be trapped on the other side, past that blocked path. He needs her.

She takes a deep breath, and immediately coughs - and oh, _God_ , is that a bad idea. She wraps an arm under her breasts, trying to stop the sharp pain in her chest but it just goes on and on and _fucking on_.

There are tears in her eyes, catching the bright light of the sunrise and waking her up.

“I’m okay,” she says. The wolf’s standing at attention, looking majorly freaked. She’s probably got it all worried. “I’m okay,” she says again with a smile. Putting on a strong face. Didn’t Mike say he liked that about her?

“We’re gonna find him. Let’s go.”

When she moves forward, the wolf moves too. It keeps close - close enough she can reach out and grab it if she has to - but far enough ahead that it’s still leading the way. A couple times it puts its nose to the ground to sniff out the way - God, she hopes it isn’t taking her to its den or something to be eaten by its actual babies - and she takes those opportunities to lean against the nearest tree or rock or whatever. Cold’s settled back in now that her wolf-blanket’s gone, and her legs are starting to stiffen up again.

She sticks closer to the wolf as they go, and it slows down to support her along the way.

“Good boy,” she says when her eyes start drooping. “You’re the best boy. Best dog-wolf in the world. I’m gonna give you so many freaking Beggin’ Strips you’ll get fat and slow and just live on my couch for the rest of your life, how’s that sound? Yeah. Nice warm couch. Sounds real good.”

Her eyes snap open - how long were they closed? - when her shoulder - other one this time - hits a tree. The wolf’s tight against her side, _stiff_ like there’s something wrong, and there’s a weird hum that fills up the air. How did she not hear it before? And dammit, she can’t see a thing. Everything’s all brightness and snow in the air and is that a freaking _fire_ over there?

There’s another sound beneath the hum, this one not so regular. The wolf barks like it’s answering it and oh God, it led her to the thing, didn’t it? It brought her back to where she came from, right? But then there’s the sound again and it sounds like her _name_.

Why would the thing know her name?

Out of the white and the noise comes a dark shape and she steps back, but too fast, she’s lost her balance and goes down. Strong arms catch her before she can hit the snow.

“Jessica.” It’s definitely her name. Over and over and over. “Jessica. Jess. Jess. Jessica.” The whatever it is holds her tight - _clings_ \- and she feels wetness that isn’t snow sliding down her neck, beneath the collar of her jacket.

She knows this voice and these hands and these arms. She knows the kisses pressed to her neck and her ear and her hair, but only for a moment like he can’t stand to let go even that much for more than a second.

“Mike?” she asks.

“You’re alive,” he says like he can’t believe it. He says more - a babbling stream of words she can barely follow about following and finding her and thinking she was dead when she fell.

She _knew_ she saw him standing over her after that thing- she knew it.

“You’re okay,” she says, holding him as tight as she dares.

There’s a whine from behind him and then that cold nose is pushing under her arm again, pushing between them like it can’t stand not to be a part of this. She laughs - it hurts almost as much as the cough, but it feels so _good_ too - as Mike eases back with wide eyes.

“Wolfie?” he asks. He’s got just the biggest smile on his face and he pets the wolf like it’s nothing. “I was worried you didn’t make it out of there, boy.”

“You know each other?” Jess asks, leaning a little forward to take some pressure off her ribs.

“Yeah, we met while I was-” He looks at her and the smile he’s wearing disappears. His hand leaves the wolf’s ears to cup her jaw so gently she barely feels it. She tips her cheek into his palm and a little of his smile comes back. “While I was hunting down the guy I _thought_ killed you.”

There’s a lot in there. She’s not sure how to feel about Mike trying to _kill_ a guy or about him running off after a killer or running off after a killer to avenge _her_ \- or that he thought she was dead. She _almost died_.

Her breath starts coming in a little too fast and Wolfie - Mike gets a _wolf_ and that’s the best he can do? he’s such a lunk sometimes - whimpers and presses up against her side. She pushes the thoughts away. She can think about all of that later - or never. Never is very good.

Right now, she’s got Mike and Wolfie and oh, those look like EMTs sprinting out of a helicopter parked in front of the smoking remains of the lodge. She really hopes that’s not a hallucination.

But even if it is, two out of three isn’t so bad.


End file.
